


"What If"s and "Maybe"s

by ThornedDream



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Digital Art, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mage, Mages and Templars, Nightmare, Tranquil Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornedDream/pseuds/ThornedDream
Summary: A birthday gift for my good friend lonely-source / ladyofthefreemarches!!! She's a huge fan of writing angst so I decided to return the painful favor.Her Trevelyan girl has a nightmare of what would happen if my Lavellan boy became tranquil, and it's not pleasant. Rest assured: light snugly comforts arise shortly after waking up.





	"What If"s and "Maybe"s

It was a deceiving image of peace that surrounded the air of the sleeping Inquisitors. With night came the relaxing dark shade of blue that cloaked the world below, and the restless life outside Skyhold’s walls rose as a symphony of chirps and flutters.

Even beneath warm sheets, one could see a sight ever grand in its serenity. Arms were thrown over each other and noses tucked gently through hair or against collar. Eyes were closed in slumber, and not a sound rose from the two sleeping lovers. A slight rustle or reaffirming nuzzle would disturb the blankets above them, but nothing more.

The images which flashed through the consciousness of Lady Inquisitor Eli, however, were far from peaceful. As sleep began, her mind entered the dreamy world of the Fade. This was where a storm of brief and nonsensical images overtook her thoughts, but none of them would be remembered when she stirred awake.

There was but one false memory, however, which would rise above the incomprehensible depths and remain with her.

It was the usual hustle and bustle of Skyhold, and through it she tried to find the head of earthy locks she knew so well. The boy was almost always by her side, and his absence worried her. “Finan?” she called, but received no answer. No one in the crowd even turned their heads to acknowledge her.

Then she saw Josephine, and she made a straight line towards her. “Josie! Josie!” she spoke in a rush. “Where is Finan? Where has he gone to?”

The ambassador turned to see her Lady Inquisitor, then regarded her with a polite bow of her head. Lady Josephine Montilyet was always far more proper than Lady Elizabeth Trevelyan.

“Ah, Your Worship. I'm afraid I do not know where Lord Inquisitor Lavellan is. He has not been seen since leaving for the Hinterlands alone.”

This set a new panic in Eli, but no matter how she worried, he did not return. Daylight faded into evening, and the Lady Inquisitor decided it would be best to disregard her concern and focus instead on work. Through contracts and receipts she flipped until the messy ink words blurred and nothing was comprehensible. She wasn’t meant to understand or remember any of it, for this was only an illusion granted by the Fade, but she remained unaware and thus aggravated.

And just as she considered dropping her pen and preparing to retire for rest, a knock sounded at the door to her chambers. “You may enter,” she called in response, and upon doing so, she watched as a flustered soldier came marching into the extravagant room.

“My Lady Inquisitor,” this soldier began with a low bow at the waist, then proceeded to explain, “I was just sent by Lady Montilyet. She says that there are templars here who request an immediate audience.”

“Templars?” Eli lowered a brow, then set the papers down upon her desk and made leave to exit her chambers. She had little idea of the reason why these men were here, but she would still grant the audience they requested- even if so late in the evening.

As she entered the main hall and seated herself on the red velvet of her throne, she observed how much smaller this audience was than usual. Perhaps it was due to the late hour, or perhaps the foggy faces she saw merely gave the illusion of a tinier crowd.

And when Eli rose the same well known hand which elevated her to such high levels of worship, the doors to the hall opened on command. Through it came three templar knights, one Finan Lavellan, and one Lord Seeker Lucius.

He was smug, and his side was now absent of the gentle and uncertain young templar Eli remembered from Val Royeaux.

There would be no more doubt leaving his lips today.

Eli took down a nervous gulp, but held tight onto her courage. Whatever they were here for, she could certainly handle it. Yes, she could.

“What brings you to Skyhold, Lord Seeker Lucius?” she called out in the loud, confident, and assertive volume that aligned with her past nobility and current Inquisitor title. She considered using it to regard her counterpart, and ask why he was in the presence of templar knights. Voicing such concern, however, would be a sign of weakness. She would not risk that.

“I came to return your lost pet,” Lord Seeker Lucius answered in a voice that sent mild chills down Eli’s spine. But after the chills came a boiling anger that roared deep in her veins. She hated whenever Finan was regarded as her property. It enraged her. “We found Lord Inquisitor Lavellan wandering the Hinterlands, and I figured it would only be fair to bring him back to your possession.”

With that explanation, Lord Seeker Lucius turned aside to grant Eli a clear view of Finan. He was unbound, his arms free and hanging at his sides. For whatever reason, he was standing amidst these enemies by will.

And then she saw it, clear as sunshine on a cloudless day: the branded crest of her human Chantry upon the forehead of her elven lover.

His eyes were clouded and dull with the glowing violet rings stripped away. He was left only with the deep nightly blue, hooded under dark lashes. A small content smile rested upon his soft lips, but there was nothing pleasant to be found in it. His expression of peace was disturbing in its void and hollow emptiness.

She felt she was going to be sick right in the middle of the hall before her throne.

When Lord Seeker Lucius saw the stricken expression upon Eli’s face, he gave a dark chuckle, then wandered to stand on Finan’s opposite side. He displayed the now silent mage like a medal of victory.

  
  
“Of course, I can’t say I didn’t think to add my own little improvements first before returning him…” Lord Seeker Lucius gestured to the branded crest upon Finan’s brow, then proceeded to speak more. “It sure wasn’t easy; the damned brat put up one hell of a fight. Kept kicking and squealing like the swine he is.”

Just imagining that scene froze Eli’s veins and turned her skin to ice.

“But it was worth it, and now I think we’ll be glad to find him less of a pest than before.” When Lord Seeker Lucius returned his attention to Finan, he dared to ask, “Isn’t that right?”

To this, the Dalish elf calmly nodded his head once, then answered in a frightfully calm done, “Magic exists to serve man, and never rule over him.”

Hearing The Chant of Light slip past the lips of Finan was enough to make Eli release one horrified cry. For once in her life, she truly dreaded those words. She wished not hear them. She would reject her Maker, then seek out every Chantry text to shred each page if it would reverse these terrors and free her love.

But alas, he remained still and standing there, smiling his cold empty smile.

It unnerved her beyond anything she ever experienced, and she wanted to look away from his deep sapphire stare but she found she couldn’t. Words were beyond her, and thoughts raced chaotically through her mind.

Lord Seeker Lucius must have sensed the overwhelming alarm, and he gave a heavy laugh that pulled in Eli’s attention once again. Through the chortles he breathed, then delivered a final line that only troubled her further. “We got one down, and now there’s only one more to go.”

In a flash of bright sickly chartreuse, Lord Seeker Lucius faded away with his twisted laughs. Finan’s dull and lifeless eyes followed, leaving Eli in the green air that made her sick nausea worse.

Then her eyes opened, and she was back in the peace of her bed. It was warm, soft, and quiet. Sweat soaked the sheets beneath her, and her breath was coming out in quick pants.

It was only a nightmare.

Oh thank the Maker; it was only a nightmare.

The girl brought her hands to her face, then whimpered into them while the last of her shaken sobs left her eyes. A vision like that would not leave her any time soon, and she hated her mind for it.

Then she was aware of the lump next to her, beneath the blankets, and turned to see Finan. He was curled up against her side, and his lashes were long and draped over his sleeping eyes.

Such a sight enraptured her all over again, and she smiled a sweet smile while giving a brief hum. He was safe. He was okay. When she brushed his earthy bangs away, his forehead was clean and clear of any burns, scorches, or branding. When he fluttered his eyes open in response, she saw the shining violet rings that lingered in his stare.

“I love you,” she whispered to him, this time carrying so much unspoken weight.

But it mattered not, for he smiled back and echoed the whisper. “Ar lath, ma vhenan.”

Then his lips were brought forward to land upon her nose, and she blushed pink from the affection.

“Go back to sleep now, ma lath,” he lightly ordered while pulling her into the rich warmth of his arms. “Dawn still waits.”

She knew he was right: she should use these last few hours to rest her wary conscious. The images of what her last sleep granted her, however, would not leave. They lingered like haunting ghosts, repeatedly howling “what if”s and “maybe”s. What if she were only one Inquisitor, standing alone in this condemned world? Maybe she would rise one day to discover she must face all these struggles on her own?

But no- her love was here, and he was safe. Every last bit of him remained as she recalled. So even if she was not eased enough to submit back to sleep, she could at least will herself to relax in his embrace. She found comfort in his pulse, and with it she allowed her nerves to calm and her thoughts to wander towards pleasantries.

“I love you,” she whispered one last time before hiding her face in the cotton over his shoulder.


End file.
